


England Is Cold. Edward Isn't.

by fanboysstillexist



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, also theres like two jokes that i think are pretty funny, saloonatics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:15:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22536115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanboysstillexist/pseuds/fanboysstillexist
Summary: Thompson cuddles with Edward because he's cold.
Relationships: Edd/Tom (Eddsworld), Edward Gold/Sheriff Thompson
Comments: 9
Kudos: 45





	England Is Cold. Edward Isn't.

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully the code for the italics works. If it doesn't I won't change it, I just won't do it next time. 
> 
> I posted this in a few other places but I decided to post it here to. I also decided to edit it, so maybe it's a bit better. I hope you guys like it!

It was, quite obviously, a hard decision to move to England. 

Going from oodles of sun, so much he could bath in it, let it run through his fingers like the gold coins that would always get stolen, to damp and dark clouds, was jarring to say the least.

Not to say the warm weather didn’t piss him off sometimes. But the ex-sheriff felt as though the lack of sun was mocking his new-found lack of a job. Not to mention he was constantly freezing, shivering out of his boots.

“Oh, come now, Thompson.” Edward teased, closing the door behind them, “I find it hard to believe that you’re _still_ cold. You’re wearing three coats, you can’t possibly be cold.” 

“Does it _look_ like I’m lyin’?” Thompson shivered, teeth chattering, with his arms wrapped around himself. Scowling to, of course.

“Well, I suppose not…hmm…” Edward taped his foot, “I think…hm.”

“Spit it out, city-slicker,” he glared.

“You’re going to have to start calling yourself that, you know.” 

Thompson turned his head away, slouching as he scratched at his hairline. 

“Yeah, I reckon.” His voice was softer than usual.

“I…well,” Edward glanced out his window. “It is nighttime, and the sheets in my guest bed are rather thin…perhaps we can both sleep in my bed?”

Thompson blinked multiple times, blue eye laced with confusion. 

“Uh…” Thompson shivered again as a gust of wind came through on open window. “S-sure.”

“Great! I have two woolen comforters, so you won't have to worry.” Edward took his hand and showed him to his room. 

“Huh. Quite a lotta space ya got here.” Thompson stepped further into the room. The wall sported many pictures and paintings of people Thompson didn't know, probably family. But there was one that caught his eye; a framed picture of prince Matthew in…not a ton of clothing? Thompson nodded at it. “And what's that, 'xactly?”

“Oh, I try to get pictures of all my friends on my wall. That is the only one I could find of Matt that wasn’t literally pornographic. That and the one I brought to America and lost.” The detective rolled his eyes and moved towards the bed.

“Ya call ‘im Matt?” Thompson squinted.

“I’ve known the fellow since practically birth. He calls me Ed.” Edward shrugs.

Thompson climbed into bed alongside the other man, ignoring the urge to ask if he could call him Ed, too. Edward held out his arms under the covers.

“Cuddle?" 

Thompson swallowed. 

“Er…”

“I know you Americans think hand-holding causes pregnancy, but anyone can cuddle. But if you don’t want to, it’s perfectly alright.” When Edward offered a warm smile, it did something funny to the old Sheriff’s heart. It wasn’t quite what he’d feel with ladies, but it certainly wasn’t anything he’d felt before.

“N-no. It’s ‘ight. I wanna.” Thompson wrapped his arms around Edward's torso, with Edward doing the same. Edward rested his chin on his head while Thompson nuzzled into his chest. It took awhile for Thompson to sleep, feeling an odd warmness spreading throughout his body. 

It had been awhile since the man had ever cuddled with someone. He really only ever had on-again-off-again girlfriends, and they were always the ones to leave him. Saying something about not spending enough time with them and already being ‘married to his job’. Thompson would genuinely mourn for the relationship for about a week to a month, depending on how serious he was about her, then go back to normal. 

Then he just stopped trying. He swore off dating, at least for the time being. His job was becoming too demanding, and no woman deserved to be neglected. He was desperate to keep his town alive and well, even while he read articles in the paper about how other towns were being abandoned, even by criminals. 

He hadn’t had a decent friend in awhile, either. Unless you counted Todd the bartender. But Thompson thought having your only friend be the person who profited off your addiction sounded even sadder than having no friends at all. 

He had forgotten how nice a hug or quick peck could be. It made him feel warm, and, kind of jittery. 

In the morning Thompson opened his eye and didn't want to immediately shut it again. Because Edward was there, smiling his small and perfect grin. 

“You slept well, I’m guessing?” Edward said, propping himself up on his elbow and watching Thompson do the same.

“Yeah, actually!” Thompson felt his eye crinkle at his own smile. “All thanks to you, my Priiince.”

“Oh, hush.” Edward said, though his smile only grew. He peered out his window. “Look, it’s morning. Are you ready for your interview?”

Thompson looked down at his body, clothed in pajamas. 

“Yes.”

“Oh, you know what I mean, haha.” Edward climbed out of bed, putting on his work clothes. Thompson turned the other way, to give his friend some privacy. 

He truly wasn’t going to like the interview. He had no idea how to drop his way of speaking entirely in order to sound ‘more intelligent’. He also wasn’t entirely certain he knew what being a cop in England entailed. But, with his friend by his side, he felt a bit more motivated to find out. 

“Come on, Thom. We’re going to miss it if you opt out in favor of staring at that wall.” Edward said, the final button of his shirt on, pulling his arm through the blazer sleeve. When Thompson turned and saw him, already happy to be called a nickname and therefore have unspoken acceptance to call Edward 'Ed', his spirits soared. The other man looked much more comfortable than he did in his old west outfit. Thompson smiled, not quite knowing what he cared about his friend’s clothes for. 

“I’m goin’, I’m goin’.” Thompson went to grab the clothes Edward had laid out for him. “And, er, Ed?”

Edward smiled and nodded tilting his head to one side.

“Thanks for everything.”


End file.
